


Nothing Life-Changing or Anything (PRIDE)

by totallyrandom



Series: LGBTQ Days [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, LGBTQ Pride, M/M, Pride Parade, Scenting, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7355230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles props up the Jeep's hood and stares despondently at the mess of wires, cursing himself for never bothering to learn what any of them do. He hears traffic approaching and scrambles back inside before anyone can see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Life-Changing or Anything (PRIDE)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get a quick, happy story in before Pride month ends.

Stiles pulls as far over as he can convince the Jeep to crawl, but he’s still halfway in the road and the billowing smoke just keeps pouring out from the Jeep’s hood. He hadn’t even made it past the Beacon Hills sign. _Fuck_. 

He pulls out his phone to beg Scott for a ride before remembering the McCalls are visiting Melissa’s parents in Mexico. He can’t even text to complain because Scott doesn’t have international data. _Double fuck_.

He props up the hood and stares despondently at the mess of wires, cursing himself for never bothering to learn what any of them do. He really should before driving off to college in the fall. 

He scrolls through his contacts, desperate. He starts mumbling to himself, which is never a good sign. “No. No. _Ugh_. No. Eh. _Nooooo_.” Lydia’s in Paris, which is good, actually, he thinks as he looks down at himself. Mason’s in New York for Pride. Caitlin’s in Chicago, also for Pride. His dad’s on duty and, even if he weren’t: NO. 

He hears traffic approaching and scrambles back inside before anyone can see him. He slouches down and bounces his head on the headrest, trying to convince himself he can always go next year. It’s … fine. _Fine_. Really. 

He sucks it up and calls a tow then settles in to wait. The honk behind him startles him out of a stupor. He throws an arm out to wave for the car to go around, but the driver just honks again. He scowls into the rearview before realizing he recognizes the black muscle car behind him. Then all he can do is bury his head in the steering wheel as he hears the footsteps approach. 

“Need a ride?” 

Stiles laughs a bit hysterically for a moment before clearing his throat and folding his arms across his stomach and subtly leaning to block Derek’s view into the car. “It’s fine. I’ll just wait for the tow and get an Uber home or something.” 

Derek raises an eyebrow and tilts his head toward the Beacon Hills sign. “That’s not the way to your house.” 

“Yeah, no. Obviously.”

Derek just looks at him. “Was there somewhere important you need to be?”

“For a certain value of important.” The words crawl out, strangled: “Nothing _life-changing_ or anything.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up at the lie. 

“I hate it when you wereholes do that.”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls the Jeep door open. Stiles shrieks and tugs it back closed. 

“What.” 

“I’m fine. Go on. Everything’s fine here.” 

“ _Stiles_.” 

Stiles sucks in his lips and shakes his head frantically. Derek pulls harder and Stiles tumbles out, not releasing his death grip on the door handle even after he ends up sprawled inelegantly on the pavement. 

Derek stares down at him, unblinking. Stiles finally pulls his hands off the door handle so he can bury his face in them instead. 

“No one in Beacon Hills was supposed to see,” Stiles whines. “I should’ve fucking waited to change when I got there.” 

Derek snaps out of his blank stare. “Where?” 

Stiles grits his teeth and decides to go all in. He stands up and sweeps a hand down his body. “Really, dude?” 

Derek’s eyes follow the path, gaze catching on Stiles’s miles and miles of legs. 

“Now that I’m sufficiently mortified, can you just leave me alone while I scandalize some unsuspecting middle-age person who’s just trying to pick up a little extra cash?” 

“Which one?” 

“Which one what?” 

“Which Pride were you going to?” 

“Oh. Um. San Francisco?” 

“Right.” 

“Go big or go home, right?” He tries his best for a lighthearted chuckle. “ … Shit! Home! Thank god dad’s on day shift today. It’s gonna take me an hour to wash all this shit off. … Oh, shiiiiiiiiit. Dad’s on duty. If anyone calls this in … ” 

Derek walks around and pops his trunk. Stiles takes it as a dismissal. “Ok. See ya later, dude.” He turns to climb back into the Jeep but stops and whips back around, stumbling toward Derek. “Just, um, don’t mention this to the pack? Please?” 

Derek is bent over putting something into the passenger seat of the car. Stiles stares at his ass while he waits for an answer. 

“Get in the car, Stiles.”

“Um, what?”

“Don’t touch anything. I don’t want to have to get the car detailed because of your glitter.” 

Stiles grimaces but slams the Jeep door with a sigh of resignation. Derek’s being unusually nice to him, which may never happen again, so he figures he should take him up on the offer. And the damage is already done. Derek has already seen him now in the crop top and rainbow hot pants. He shakes his head, thinking that Uber driver will never know how lucky they are. 

Derek pushes him into the car and closes the door just before the tow truck arrives. Stiles is grateful again because he’s saving yet another driver from the trauma of Stiles’s pasty white legs. Stiles thinks about calling his dad to let him know about the Jeep but decides he really doesn’t want to explain where he broke down and why. 

Derek comes back and pulls the Camaro back onto the road, heading out of town. 

“Um … ” Stiles says, confusion robbing him of words. 

“It’s fine.” 

“ _What’s_ fine?” 

“You’re paying.” 

Stiles just stares at him. And stares at him. And some more. 

“I know a great burger place near the beginning of the route.” 

“The route?” 

Derek side-eyes him like he’s an idiot. Stiles can’t exactly disagree, as he has no fucking idea what’s happening. 

“We should have enough time to eat before the parade starts.” 

Stiles just collapses in disbelieving laughter. 

“What,” Derek huffs. 

“I just … How is this real? … I mean … I’m going to Pride dressed like a rent boy, and you’re going with me? To Pride? You’re willing to be seen with me? With me dressed like this?”

“You’re right. Get rid of that hideous shirt. We can stop for sunscreen.” 

“Oh my god. And no, sunscreen won’t save me from lobster shoulders” 

Derek scrunches his brow for a moment then reaches back and pulls off his own shirt. 

“Oh my _god_.” 

“Your turn.” 

Stiles just gapes at him for a minute before swapping his shirt for Derek’s. Derek’s nostrils flare and he strangles the steering wheel. Stiles stares at the white-knuckled grip. 

“Oh. Sorry? I thought you meant … Sorry. Um … ”

Derek takes a calming breath. And another. “It’s fine,” he says, almost sounding like he means it. Stiles sees he’s taking shallow breaths, though, his jaw locked. 

“Sorry. I’ll wash it after,” Stiles whispers, twisting the hem between his fingers. 

Derek inhales loudly and exhales on a growl, yanking the car over to the shoulder and throwing it into park. He storms out of the car and throws the passenger door open. Stiles scrambles out hands up in front of him in a pacifying gesture. 

“Whoa. It’s ok. You can totally change your mind about the impromptu road trip. I’ll find a ride back to town. It’s fine. It’s ok.” 

Derek just stalks toward him, right into his space, crowding him against the car. Stiles squeaks as Derek runs his nose up from Stiles’s collarbone to behind his ear. Stiles hears him rumbling, much closer to a purr than a growl. He gasps and tilts his head away, giving Derek as much room as he wants. 

“I didn’t know,” he says softly, lips brushing Stiles’s skin. 

“Know what,” Stiles breathes out. 

“That you … ” 

“That I'm bi?” 

“I didn’t know we’d smell like this,” he murmurs into Stiles’s hair. “You’re … ”

“Yeah. Yeah, you too.” Stiles turns toward him, licking his lips. Derek’s focus snaps to his mouth and he groans, moving in but stopping just short of contact. Stiles leans the extra inch, kissing him softly. “We don’t have to go. We can just … ”

“Just?” Derek breathes the question against the shell of his ear.

Stiles pulls back and grabs Derek’s face, staring into his eyes so there can be no confusion: “Take me home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could draw. I really want to see Stiles in this outfit: rainbow hot pants, a crop top, Chucks, and covered in glitter.


End file.
